Nanghihingi ng pagkain sa isang marangyang kasal, natigilan ang bata nang mapagtanto niyang ang nobya ay ang kanyang matagal nang nawawalang biyolohikal na ina.

Nanghihingi ng pagkain sa isang marangyang kasal, natigilan ang bata nang mapagtanto niyang ang nobya ay ang kanyang matagal nang nawawalang biyolohikal na ina.

  

Nanghihingi ng pagkain sa isang marangyang kasal, natigilan ang bata nang mapagtanto niyang ang nobya ay ang kanyang matagal nang nawawalang biyolohikal na ina.

 

Begging for food in a lavish wedding, the boy was stunned to realize that the bride was his lost biological mother

The boy’s name was Miguel, 10 years old. Miguel had no parents. He only remembered that when he was 2 years old, Tatay Ben – an old beggar living under the EDSA bridge, Guadalupe section – had picked him up in a plastic tub drifting along the black water of the drainage ditch. At that time, he could not speak or walk, he could only cry until he was hoarse. Around his neck was only a worn red woolen necklace and a tattered piece of paper that said: “Please, kind person, take care of this boy. His name is Miguel.”

Tatay Ben had nothing but his tired legs and a torn shirt, but he still took the boy home to raise, sharing every piece of pandesal he found, and when he was lucky, a box of charity lugaw (rice porridge). Despite the hardship, he always told Miguel:

“When you grow up, if you ever see your mother again, remember to forgive her. No one leaves you without feeling sorry for them.”

Miguel grew up amidst the cries of “bote, dyaryo!” from scrap paper buyers, in jeepneys, LRT stations, and under damp bridges. He never knew what his mother looked like. He only heard Tatay Ben say that on the paper he was wrapped in, there was a lipstick stain and a long strand of hair wrapped around it. He guessed that his mother was a very young girl, perhaps not even an adult when she gave birth to him.

One day, Tatay Ben had a bad cough and was hospitalized in a cramped charity room. With no money, Miguel had to beg for food more than usual. That day, when he heard that there was a bustling wedding in the Ayala Alabang villa area, Miguel ventured there, hungry and thirsty.

He crouched outside the gate, eyes wide open as he looked at the banquet table full of food. A kitchen maid felt sorry for him, slipped him a box of hot kakanin and said:

– Sit over there and eat, don’t let anyone see.

Miguel bowed his head in thanks, then looked up inside while eating. The guests were elegant, their dresses were gorgeous, and their laughter was loud. The boy thought to himself: I wonder if my mother is living in a place like this… Or is she as poor as me?

Suddenly the MC’s voice rang out:

– Please invite the bride to the stage!

The music started. All eyes turned to the red carpeted staircase. And then… the bride appeared. In a pure white dress, her face was radiantly made up, her long black hair curled softly, her smile as gentle as the morning sun.

But what made Miguel stand still was not her beauty… but the red woolen bracelet on the bride’s wrist – exactly like the bracelet that had been wrapped around his neck years ago.

Miguel rubbed his eyes. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He jumped up, pushed his way through the tables, and walked quickly toward the stage, his voice shaking.

– Miss… that bracelet… are you my mother…?

The bride paused. That voice… that look… And then she looked down at the bracelet – something she always kept as a souvenir, because it was the bracelet she had knitted herself, intending to put on the son she had to leave behind in a panic when she was 17.

She turned around, knelt down before the boy:

– Oh my god… Miguel… Is that you? You… are still alive…

The whole audience fell silent.

The groom – Ramon – ran to help his bride-to-be, but the bride Mariel pushed him away, hugged Miguel, tears streaming down her face:

– I’m sorry… I’ve been looking for you for so many years… I didn’t dare believe that one day I would see you again…

Miguel stood still in those strange arms. He hadn’t had time to understand everything. But that warmth, that choked cry… made his heart tremble. The small arms wrapped around his mother, gently as if afraid that this was just a dream.

Ramon was confused, listening to everyone whispering, then after knowing the truth, he slowly said:

– If this is your child, then I believe… you have never abandoned him. I will not let you two be separated again.

That day, the wedding in Ayala Alabang was no longer a simple ceremony. It became the day a Filipino mother found her lost child, and a street boy of Manila found his blood relationship after ten years of wandering.

Miguel did not know what was waiting ahead. But he knew, from today, he was no longer the boy abandoned by the sewer. He was the son of a mother who cried because of her love for him, not daring to forgive herself throughout her youth.

“No one is born wanting to leave their child. Perhaps it is fate that is driven to the end. But maternal love – even if interrupted – is still as strong as blood, waiting for the day to find each other